


Nine Drunken 'Carolers'

by thepopeisdope



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, And No Actual Caroling, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5502512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepopeisdope/pseuds/thepopeisdope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a few glasses of eggnog and schnapps, Dean was totally on board with going on a little adventure. <i>Christmas caroling</i>, Charlie called it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Drunken 'Carolers'

**Author's Note:**

> Time crunches are fun.
> 
> Yeah. So fun.

When Charlie first suggested mixing their eggnog with peppermint schnapps, Dean was totally on board. It wasn’t hard to get the schnapps, either—Charlie’s mom was hosting the annual holiday party for her coworkers at the elementary school she teaches at which, conveniently, included Mary, as well as John by proxy. There were plenty of bottles just waiting to be snatched by the pair of teenagers hiding out in the backyard.

After a few glasses of said eggnog and schnapps, Dean was also totally on board with going on a little adventure. _Christmas caroling_ , Charlie called it.

Dean is significantly less ‘on board’ when he finds himself on the doorstep of one Castiel Novak, his heart hammering in his chest as he sways unsteadily on his feet. He really shouldn’t be doing this. He’s much too drunk to be interacting with the world in general, let alone his best friend and secret crush.

Damn Charlie. Dean knew he shouldn’t have told her about his feelings for Cas. But who else was he supposed to confide in other than his _other_ best friend? And a gay best friend at that. Charlie understands what he’s dealing with.

But that doesn’t make it any less annoying that she tries to play goddamn matchmaker and force the two of them together literally _all the time_.

Charlie pushes him closer to the doorbell, both of them nearly losing their balance and falling over in the process, and passes him their shared thermos of booze. “For courage, young Skywalker.”

Dean shoots her a look over his shoulder. “I’m not a Skywalker,” he mumbles, taking a long drag of eggnog. “I’m Han fucking Solo.” The words give him a boost of confidence, and he finally rings the doorbell.

It’s quiet for a long moment before the sound of approaching footsteps become distinguishable through the door. A light flicks on, the lock slides open, the door swings inward, and then Dean is staring at Cas’ confused face. It’s just as pretty as ever, he can’t stop himself from noting.

“Dean?” Cas asks, rubbing blearily at one of his eyes. He’s dressed in t-shirt and jeans, so Dean doesn’t think he was in bed, at least. Cas peers around Dean and spots Charlie, and his frown deepens. “And Charlie? What are you two doing here? It’s ten o’clock at night.”

“We’re Christmas caroling!” Charlie says brightly, only _slightly_ slurring. “Dean wanted to sing you a _really_ special song. Didn’t you, Dean?”

Dean whips his head around to glare at her, because where the fuck did that come from? His brain may be swimming in alcohol, but he’s _damn_ sure that _singing to Cas_ wasn’t part of any of their plans.

Cas’ eyebrows shoot upward. “He… What?”

Dean feels himself blush, and he scrambles for a cover. Why were they here, again? “No, we, uh… Will you carol with us? I bet you’re a great caroler and we can’t really carol with just _two people_ , but I’m not gonna ask _Sam_ , and Charlie wants to go to Gilda’s but your house was closer anyway—”

Charlie gasps, and grabs at Dean’s arm so hard that he winces. “Dean, we _should_ go to Gilda’s! Can we sing ‘Deck the Halls’ to Gilda? _Please_ , Dean?”

“Seeing Gilda was _your_ idea, Charlie,” Dean reminds her with a roll of his eyes. He tries to ignore the wave of vertigo that it sends through him. Then he frowns as another thought occurs to him. “I don’t know the words to ‘Deck the Halls’.”

“Pssh, that’s not important!” Charlie giggles suddenly, and reaches to wrestle the thermos out of Dean’s hand to take a drink. “That’s the one about donning gay apparel, right? I think the two of us can figure that out _just_ fine.”

Dean can’t help but giggle along with her. At least, he does until Cas clears his throat and he’s reminded of just where he is, and who else is listening to Charlie’s gay jokes. Dean tries to force himself to focus—which has moderate success, at best—and turns pleading eyes on his best friend. “Cas, _please_ come with us? It’ll be fun, I promise. And here.” He steals the thermos back from Charlie and holds it out toward Cas like a peace offering, grinning as he does. “We can share.”

Cas eyes the thermos suspiciously, glancing between it and his two friends. “How much alcohol is in that?” he asks.

Charlie snorts and stage-whispers, “ _A lot_.”

“I see,” Cas replies, now watching them through narrowed eyes. After a long moment of this, he sighs and abruptly turns back into his house, making Dean reach for him in a panic. Cas slowly looks back at him, blinking at the hand on his shoulder before meeting his eyes, his lips twitching with amusement. “Dean,” he says calmly, “I’m just getting a coat. If I’m going out with you—and I am, because the two of you clearly need a responsible chaperone—I don’t want to freeze in the process.”

“Oh.” Dean blinks in surprise, staring down at his own hand dumbly. He holds onto Cas for a moment longer before he releases his grip, stepping back until he bumps into Charlie. “Right. Sorry.”

Cas smiles and disappears into the house. Charlie elbows Dean in the side, hard.

Dean rubs at the sore spot she left behind, and whispers, “What the fuck, Charlie?”

“Totally _not_ how I taught you to flirt, Winchester,” Charlie whispers back, glaring at him. “You’re a shitty gay protégé.”

The rhyme startles a laugh out of Dean. He repeats between giggles, “ _Gay protégé_.”

Charlie elbows him again, but laughs along. “That’s what you are and you know it, Solo.”

Cas finally reappears in the doorway, his favorite tan trench coat now in place and a pair of sneakers on his feet. He gives Charlie and Dean—still giggling to themselves—a searching look, then turns to shut and lock the door behind him, tucking his key into his pocket when he is finished. He indicates for the pair to walk down the front path to the sidewalk, following closely behind them.

~

They don’t make it to Gilda’s.                                                                        

Or rather, _Dean and Cas_ don’t make it to Gilda’s. At some point during their walk to her house, Charlie gives the two of them an unreadable look and says that she changed her mind about caroling for her girlfriend, and would prefer to just hang out with Gilda on her own. Dean and Cas are hardly bothered by the development, Dean still being reasonably drunk despite the sobering effects of their walk, and Cas beyond tipsy himself from having drained the last of the thermos.

After Charlie splits off in her own direction, Dean and Cas wander toward Dean’s house, since it’s closer to where they are than Cas’ house. Dean kinda-sorta-not-really accidentally bumps into Cas’ side every so often along the way. Cas gives him a few weird looks, but doesn’t object to the repeated contact.

In the end, the two of them end up sitting side by side on Dean’s front porch. His house is empty anyway, John and Mary being at Charlie’s house and Sam with his friend Kevin, and the sky is clear for the first time in weeks, providing a perfect view of the stars. It would be a shame not to sit and appreciate it, and the cold, outdoor air helps to clear the alcohol from his head.

Dean absently stares up at the sky for a while, seeing stars but focused on nothing beyond the heat of Cas’ body at his side. They’re just about touching, brought closer together by their lowered inhibitions. Dean knows that this would never happen if they were both completely sober, and doesn’t _that_ thought just make him want to drown his sorrows in something stronger than their eggnog had been.

Thing is, he doesn’t know what to do about Cas. On the one hand, he feels they’ve been friends for too long for him to confess his feelings. It could ruin everything they have. But on the other hand…

He wants Cas so badly that sometimes it truly hurts. They’ll be graduating high school soon and moving on with their lives, and while Dean knows that he and Cas will continue to be friends, that isn’t really enough to satisfy him.

After several minutes of companionable silence, Dean looks over at Cas. He’s startled to find the other boy already watching him, his face still carrying a flush from the schnapps he had downed an hour or so previously. Cas only continues to stare once Dean meets his gaze, completely unashamed of the scrutiny he is putting Dean under.

It isn’t long before Dean begins to squirm, because how could he not? He clears his throat and forces himself to keep looking at Cas when he demands, “What?”

Cas doesn’t respond for a long moment, and when he does, it’s not with anything Dean may have expected. “I heard what Charlie said.”

Dean freezes, and tries to think back. Sure he’s feeling more in control of himself _now_ , but he’s still undeniably more drunk than sober, so it’s hard to put the events of the evening into place in his mind. What had Charlie said? Was it bad? He vaguely recalls a joke about _gay apparel_ , but that hadn’t been _that_ obvious, had it?

When he sees Dean’s hesitation, Cas sighs and shifts a few inches away, much to Dean’s displeasure. Cas pulls one of his legs up against his chest and rotates to face Dean completely, chewing lightly on his bottom lip in thought. A few more seconds pass, then he clarifies quietly, “She critiqued your flirting technique.”

And then suddenly Dean remembers, in almost perfect clarity. He had thought Cas was refusing to join them and reached for him without thinking, and Charlie had given him shit and called him her protégé or something. At the time, it hadn’t even occurred to him that Cas may have still been within earshot during the exchange, even though he wasn’t visible. Plus, he’s fairly certain that his and Charlie’s ‘whispering’ didn’t much resemble actual whispering anyway. He’s been around enough drunk people in his life to know that they usually can’t whisper for shit.

Which means Cas _knows_.

“Shit, Cas, I—”

In a blink, Cas throws himself forward and cuts Dean off with a sloppy press of their lips. It’s slightly off-center and completely inexperienced, but it shorts out Dean’s brain all the same.

Cas leans back again after only a fraction of a second, but he stays firmly in Dean’s space. “That may have been rash of me,” he breathes, the words ghosting across Dean’s mouth. He looks so damn pleased with himself, too, and it’s obvious he doesn’t believe his own words. “Should I apologize?”

Dean is still struggling to wrap his mind around the reality that _this is happening_ , but still, even if he can tell Cas is just being cheeky, he knows that is a _stupid ass question_.

He decides to demonstrate that to Cas in the best way he can, and hauls his friend in by the lapels of his trench coat for another kiss. Cas immediately melts against him, and works his lips against Dean’s as best he can as he improves his technique.

Well. Maybe Dean’s feelings aren’t one-sided after all, then. Who would have guessed.

He’s sure this is something Cas will want to ‘talk about’ sometime in the near future—because that’s just how Cas is—but for right now? A nice make-out session seems like a _fine_ way to finish the day.

The hangover he’s sure to have tomorrow will be worth every minute.

Charlie will be so proud.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://thursdays-fallen-angel.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
